


The Heart Beside

by scarlettb11



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to friends to lovers To enemies to friends to lovers, F/M, HEA for Daphne x Simon, Romance, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettb11/pseuds/scarlettb11
Summary: Canon Divergence after the events of The Art of the Swoon, 1x03Daphne accepts the Prince's proposal after a turbulent interlude at Lady Trowbridge's ball. She lives happily ever after with her husband and young daughter in the Prussian countryside.Fate throws a wrench in her idyllic life when Daphne finds herself widowed and traveling to London for the birth of her brother’s first child.Throw in some meddling mamas, a dubiously reformed Rakish Duke, pre-birth chaos, a few scandalous house parties, and a confused mess of feelings that never truly went away from that fateful spring in 1813.Rating elevated for new and future chapters!
Relationships: Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Basset, very minor mention of Daphne x Friedrich
Comments: 134
Kudos: 425





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note at the bottom! 
> 
> Title from Emily Dickinson's poem: 
> 
> It's all I have to bring today

_It's all I have to bring to-day,_

_This, and my heart beside,_

_This, and my heart, and all the fields,_

_And all the meadows wide._

_Be sure you count, should I forget,_

_\-- Someone the sum could tell, --_

_This, and my heart,_ _and all the bees_

_Which in the clover dwell._

-Emily Dickinson

_1816_

Daphne, Princess of Prussia, nee’ Bridgerton had the two things she had wanted most in the world.

First, she was the mother to an adorable toddler. Having grown up in her large, boisterous family, Daphne had always imagined a life blessed with many children.

Amelia, of a mere 16 months, had the warm chestnut eyes of the Bridgerton family, the soft, blonde curls of her father, and the cherubic cheeks she remembered from Gregory at that age.

Second, she had a loving marriage with a husband who adored her. The two years of marriage with Friedrich had been picturesque. They had happily agreed to split their time between the Prussian court and the Prince’s estates in the country.

So, when she would wake up in a cold sweat to the odd dream of a strong, heavy palm grazing the bare skin of her back or a mischievous smile promising things she had not understood in the park, she would force her mind to banish those thoughts.

She would shift closer in bed to Freidrich (or Freddy as he liked to be called by his mother and sisters and her). He would make a soft sound in acknowledgement, drag a heavy arm around her and murmur sleepily to her. Daphne would drift off to sleep and remind herself that she had vowed those momentous months of 1813 would remain in the past.

< \- >

Daphne sipped her strong Assam from a delicately painted teacup. She leaned back, admiring the delicately painted peonies on the fine china set gifted to her by her sister-in-law. Her daughter played at her feet in their parlor. For the last two months, Daphne and Freddy had been visiting one of his many palaces. This one had been chosen for the vast grounds and stables full of her husband's prized Arabians. Daphne glanced out to the gardens. The afternoon sun had warmed the garden path and Daphne contemplated a late afternoon stroll before changing for dinner with her extended family.

Her thoughts of an idyllic afternoon walk were soon interrupted when she heard thunderous footsteps running down the hall. The parlor door slammed open.

Her brother-in-law stood at the entrance, his shoulders shaking in grief.

Daphne could never have prepared herself for the words that would be said.

Her husband had died in a horse riding accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you very much for reading this little fic of mine. I had a plot bunny that would not leave me alone about a what-if Daphne had married the Prince and left Simon to grieve and sulk. I swear I am a Simon/Daphne shipper at heart but I could not resist exploring this premise. It intrigued me because I thought - what if they were on a more equal footing? What if she came back and was more mature in her relationship with Simon? Clearly they would still have feelings for each other but would Simon be able to dupe her again? Would she make the same dubious consent mistake knowing how children are made? Would Simon want to marry her now that she has a child and achieved her goal of wanting a family and he doesn't have to provide her with a child now? Does she even want to marry Simon now that she's pretty much set for life being a widow of a Prince? 
> 
> A lot of thoughts I wanted to answer for myself.


	2. Until We are Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon returns to England and finds family.

" _Not until we are lost do we begin to find ourselves_." - Henry David Thoreau 

Simon Basset was able to stay away from England for exactly 6 months. His original plan, made rashly in haste and bitterness, was to never return at all. He made it halfway across the Mediterranean before the regret seeped into his mind. He had settled in a small seaside town on the coast off of Morocco when he received a strongly worded letter from his steward. It was in his spacious set of apartments that the guilt over his abandoned responsibilities truly struck.

While he was happy to see his late father’s lands and estates be run into the ground, a strongly worded letter from the steward and another from Lady Danbury reached him in that live part of him that he had buried alive. Each letter had mentioned some iteration of: “Your late mother, the Duchess of Hasting’s love and regard for her tenants” and “Responsibility to your people” and “It is high time you begin to face your duties.” The truth of those words and the gravity of the consequences that his people would have on him fleeing finally got to him.

In an effort to forget Daphne, he had stayed away from London. He was haunted continuously by his choice to leave that budding courtship. Daphne’s questioning eyes, coy glances, and affectionate gaze were still present in his dreams, torturing his sleep.

But, these letters had motivated him to finally leave his travels and return to London. It may have helped that Lady Danbury’s letter had included a terse update that Daphne and her Prince had moved their household to Berlin. He was tired of being aimless. He was tired of running away. He wanted to go home.

In London, after setting up Hastings House, he ventured to his club where he ran into Anthony.

“Hastings! My old friend. Good to see you back in London. Ready to finally take your place in society then?”

Simon shook his hand and clapped his oldest friend on the back.

“Anthony,” he smiled, choosing to ignore his comments. “How is your family? Your siblings and mother?”

“Daphne,” Anthony began pointedly “Is living her life of wedded bliss in Berlin. She’s with child. Everyone else is doing quite well. You should stop by Bridgerton House tomorrow. I know Mother will be happy to see you.”

Simon fought to control the slightly strangled expression on his face at Anthony’s mention of Daphne. He fought to suppress the sick feeling he felt deep in his gut at the thought of Daphne with another man, her body changing with his child.

He showed up at Bridgerton House for supper the following evening that began the domino effect of the strangest of circumstances to come.

Somehow, in between accepting his responsibilities at Clyvedon, his other country estates, and his duties in Parliament, Simon became casually adopted into the Bridgerton brood. He watched over the next months and the London season as Anthony vowed to court one young lady and then fell in love with another absolute spitfire of a woman. Over the next few months, he was invited to the weekly Bridgerton family dinners and assumed a role of big brother to the younger set of Anthony’s siblings.

In Anthony, he found a renewed sense of friendship - sharing the difficulties in managing their estates. Lady Bridgerton happily enveloped him into her brood. When Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton would not so subtly shove him in the direction of an unmarried young woman at the odd London ball, he would resignedly perform the single dance before fading into the shadows and retiring to his club or Hastings House.

Overall, Simon was content. He had a pseudo family in the form of Anthony’s. He was sufficiently wealthy and his investments seemed to be doing well. He boxed with Will on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. He attended weekly dinners at Lady Bridgerton's on Sundays. He did not miss the irony in how his attempt to leave and forget Daphne had resulted in him integrating himself into her family.

When the regular monthly missive would arrive from Prussia with Daphne’s handwritten letters to her siblings and mother, he would try not to listen too closely to Eloise reading them out loud. When she would send a miniature of herself and her baby daughter that Anthony carelessly left on his expansive, cherry wood desk in the study , he tried not to gaze too long at it. He suppressed his urge to pocket the miniature. He squashed the perverse hope that he could pretend for a moment it was Daphne, his wife and their baby daughter together.

On the odd occasion, he would catch his eyes drifting over to the portrait in the foyer of Bridgerton House of Daphne and her sisters, lingering over the delicate planes of her face.

Reminders of Daphne were everywhere. He found comfort in that. He preferred it that way. Loving her from a very, very far distance.

No, he firmly reminded himself. He had made his choice. He had kept his vow.

News of Daphne’s tragedy reached London. In the wake of the Prince's death, Simon felt the very first stirrings of hope he had felt in a long time. Anthony, his new bride, and Lady Bridgerton, with the younger siblings in tow had traveled to Berlin for the funeral. The Bridgertons had returned to London the following month, but without Daphne. And Simon squashed his hope of seeing her.

Again.

Time went on and during Kate’s confinement period, Simon found himself invited to stay at Aubrey Hall. Unable to resist the shooting and hunting that Anthony would undoubtedly get up to, he packed up his books his steward had sent him to review. Kate, ever the gracious hostess, had instructed their housekeeper set up for Simon a temporary residence in one of the many guest chambers at the sprawling country house.

There, his friendship with Kate grew into the easy companionship siblings seemed to share. Their warmth began on one evening poring over the ledgers for his manor in Wiltshire. Kate, surprisingly to him, had a wicked head for numbers that was enough to rival his own. Kate was the only one who ever seemed inclined to borrow his latest book on mathematical theory. As each day passed by, Simon found himself increasingly intertwined into the Bridgerton family. Edwina and Eloise would sit in the library poring over the latest novel, while Francesca would practice her compositions on the pianoforte, and Hyacinth and Gregory wound run circles around each other, getting revenge, for the latest frog-related incident.

In the coming weeks, Simon would find himself whiling his afternoons away with Anthony, Kate, and her portly dog. While Anthony was his best friend, in Kate, he found the little sister he never had.

On one afternoon, Anthony was in the village visiting tenants. Simon had elected to stay behind in an effort to catch up on correspondence. Kate lounged in the drawing room, exhausted from her pregnancy, and rested her ankles up on the brocaded ottoman. Simon walked into the drawing room.

“Oh, Kate, I apologize, I was not aware you were resting.” Simon made to leave.

“No, please stay.” Kate glanced up from what looked to be letters, gesturing to the opposite armchair, tucking away a few sheets of paper.

“Actually, I’m quite happy I got you alone. I wanted to ask you something that Anthony had mentioned. But you know how he is. He never wants to elaborate and everyone is so hush-hush about it.” Kate continued as Simon took a seat, making himself comfortable.

“What did happen between you and Daphne in the season before mine? I never had a chance to ask her with everything that happened last year. I have always been so curious. There were rumors of a courtship?” Kate asked with a slight gleam in her eyes. Simon’s entire body tensed up and he found the familiar sensation of being lost for words.

“I-I don’t know.” Simon admitted. Kate gazed at him sympathetically.

“There had to had been something. You look so gutted whenever she comes up! And Anthony never seems to want to bring her up when you are around.” She continued.

Simon looked at Kate with a sudden sadness in his eyes. His stomach clenched in nervousness. It was taxing to pretend that Simon had not given up everything that he could have had.

So, to Kate, he admitted everything.

He told Kate about his stammer, his vow to his father, his resentment. He told her about their ruse and how unworthy he had felt of her burgeoning love. He told Kate how he had deliberately and knowingly uttered the cutting words that had sent Daphne straight into the arms of her prince. He told her how she had been the only woman he felt “right” with. The only woman he had ever truly opened up to about his mother.

“Do you still love her?” She asked gently. Kate had shifted over to his armchair and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Simon’s gaze which had stared steadily out the window, shot to Kate.

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know” He replied, unable to stop himself from confessing the uncomfortable truth. “Does it matter?”

Kate stared at him steadily, her expression shifting in contemplation.

“Well, it seems that you’ll be able to find out sooner than later. She’s coming back to England.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Daphne and Simon meet in the next chapter


	3. A Single Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne arrives in London

Chapter 2 

“You will be very happy with your Prince, Miss Bridgerton” - Simon Basset, Duke of Hastings to Miss Daphne Bridgerton 

“ _Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat_.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald

**“** _Say you’ll see me again_ ** _,_** _e_ _ven if it's just pretend._ ” - Taylor Swift 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daphne was lost. 

The first year after she lost her husband passed by in a blur of sympathetic glances and unnerving kindness from the royal family. She felt as if she had been encased in a sheet of ice. Everyone was perfectly nice to her. Each member of the family she had married into, tried their best to bring her out of her shell, but every attempt simply served for her to further withdraw into her cocoon of grief. Their attempts did not change the fact Daphne was lost. 

She had accomplished the one thing that was expected of her to everyone’s highest expectations. And now, she simply felt aimless. The only light that shone through that sheet of ice was Amelia. Daphne understood her family was concerned and then, caught in a small scheme of matriarchal plotting, her mother, mother-in law, and the Queen had somehow decided Daphne needed a change of routine and organized an extended trip to England for the summer. Daphne did not have the energy to protest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In London, Daphne’s first stop was No.5 Bruton Street, where her mother had set up residence. Her brother had written ahead and invited the use of Bridgerton House while the family was away at Aubrey Hall, but Daphne could not stand to be alone. She wanted her mother, who had elected to stay in London until Daphne’s arrival before travelling to their country seat together. 

Daphne did not know what she had exactly expected out of her visit back to England. However, her mother taken it upon herself to drag her along to every afternoon tea and every appointment. The first of which was with Queen Charlotte. Although Daphne did expect to visit her aunt by marriage at least once, she had not expected the first crack in her wall of ice to form during tea at Buckingham House.

After the usual pleasantries, Daphne and her mother sat in the Queen’s expansive drawing room. Daphne watched as the two women exchanged a silent look between them as they sat down. Violet nodded with the slightest bend of her neck and with a deep breath, Queen Charlotte began, helping herself to a scone at the vast tea service, 

“It is good to see you, my dear. I don’t believe I’ve seen you since the funeral.” 

“It is rather nice to be back in England among all of the familiar faces.” Daphne replied graciously, tucking into her own scone and generously dropping a large dollop of cream on it. 

“I will get to the point quickly. There is no beating around the bush here. Reports have reached me that you refuse to come out of mourning. I know what it is to grieve the loss of a spouse dear.” She added gently. 

“However, as your Queen and your aunt, I must tell you that it is entirely inappropriate for you to still be going around in widow’s weeds. And the color! The color does _nothing_ for your complexion!” She finished sharply, her words echoing her expression of disdain. 

Daphne was offended. With color rising in her cheeks, she began to hotly retort in her defense, glancing incredulously at her mother to say something on her behalf. Before she could find the right words, the Queen interrupted, adopting a different approach. 

“A _year_ has passed by, Daphne. You must get out of your blacks and grays and think about starting a new chapter in your life. You are so young. You have the rest of your life in front of you. After you spend some time in the country with your family, I will require you, as a member of my family and my court, to be present at some society events. Your refusal will not be accepted.” She finished with a note of finality. 

Violet finally spoke up and said in a gentle tone, “You cannot grieve him forever, Daphne.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During the carriage ride home, Daphne stared silently out of the window, watching the passerby's in the busy London street. 

Violet cleared her throat. Daphne broke out of her reverie and looked at her mother. 

“I cannot believe that you would lead me to an ambush like that, Mother! I thought that you, of all people, would understand what I am going through. The uncertainty and the loss. The whole world feels as if it is going on without me and I am stuck. I can- I can hardly believe that you all people, expect me to think about remarrying again. You, of all people, who never remarried after Father!” Daphne said with tears in her eyes.

“I thought you would understand.” 

“Yes, dear, but our circumstances do not compare...when your father passed away, Anthony was 18 and almost a man, Benedict not too far behind. I was pregnant with Hyacinth,” Violet said, “I had eight children to look after. I could not imagine anything but devoting myself to raising them. You are a young widow, and still a young woman. Yes, you have a child, but she has barely known her father and will need some sort of father figure in her life as she grows up.” 

Her mother’s eyes took on a wistful look. 

“Your father was the love of my life and my best friend. No one could ever live up to him.” 

“But- Freddie was the love -“ Daphne faltered, suddenly at a loss for words. Her mother looked at her with a curious gleam. 

“Was he?” Violet asked. “The love of your life?” 

“Of course he was.” Daphne said quickly. “And there will never be another man as good and true as him.” 

Violet remained silent, turning to gaze out of the carriage window. 

“All things considered, the Queen was correct. You cannot go around in those horrendous colors forever. We are visiting Madame Delacroix tomorrow. You will look lovely in lilac and lavender. It’s important to put on a good front, darling. It won’t help your younger sisters to catch a husband, dear, if they have a sister in full mourning sitting in the parlor.” 

Daphne shot her mother an exasperated look. “As you wish,” she conceded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 _The next day, at the modiste._

“Ah, your Highness, it is lovely to see you again,” demurred Madame Delacroix. “I have a few new pieces of fabrics that you will absolutely love.” 

The appointment, which her mother had secured in a suspiciously short time, continued on for a full hour as Daphne was poked and prodded for her new dresses. As her mother stood on the elevated platform to check her measurements for a new pelisse, Daphne wandered over to a corner of the store where dresses hung on mannequins. 

Immediately, a breathtaking gown of midnight blue with intricately beaded silver and gray embroidery caught her eye. It was cut shockingly low over the bodice, a far cry from what she had worn over the last year. Yet, Daphne found herself fingering the diaphanous material in silent admiration. 

“It is beautiful isn’t it?” called over Madame Delacroix. “I had it made for a debutante last month, but the rumor is that she was with child and was whisked away by her young lord to Gretna Green for a hasty marriage. She already wrote declining the dress. It is rather unlikely it will fit her any time soon.” Madame Delacroix tutted. “It would look rather lovely against your Highness’s complexion. Shall I adjust it for your measurements and add it to your account?” 

Daphne sighed in response, wandering over to another corner to look over reticules. “No, thank you, I was simply admiring the material.” 

Delacroix turned to look at her from across the shop, unconvinced, but decided against the pursuit.

“Just the dresses we’ve picked out already.” Daphne stated firmly. 

Madame Delacroix caught the Dowager Viscountess’ eyes in the mirror, who had been quietly observing the interaction. Making sure her daughter was out of earshot, she leaned down and whispered to the modiste, 

“Have it made to her measurements and add it to my account. And perhaps, two more evening gowns like it, ” Delacroix nodded back in acknowledgement. The two women caught eyes in the mirror. They both wore identical conspiratorial smiles. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following week, Daphne was somehow convinced into extending her two week stay at Aubrey Hall into two months. Violet had used every weapon in her arsenal of motherly love and manipulation to convince Daphne. 

“Don’t you want to get to know your new sister-in-law? You’ve barely spent any time with her.” 

“Mother, she is heavily pregnant. I hardly think socializing with me and having a two year-old child underfoot will be high on her list of priorities.” 

“Oh, what nonsense,” Violet replied, signaling the conversation was over.

The next day, Violet began at breakfast. “Maybe, when you see Eloise again, you can give her some pointers for the marriage market. She has turned down two perfectly good proposals already, goodness knows why.” 

“I hardly think Eloise will be receptive to any pointers from me, mother. You and I both know that she lives on her own terms. She will marry when she is ready, if at all. And besides, I’m certain Anthony and Kate will take care of her. She has me, as well,” Daphne added with a note of realization. 

It was true. Her husband had the foresight to extensively settle his affairs before his untimely accident. Amelia had been provided with a larger than substantial dowry. As for Daphne herself, her husband had left a large sum of money in her name. With access to both her extensive family's many homes on the continent and England, Daphne was secure for life. 

“What about Francesca then? She’ll be starting her first season next year and I’ve decided to allow her to attend a few afternoon parties to get her feet wet.” 

Daphne chuckled. “Mother, you and I know we both could use a few pointers each from Francesca.” Violet laughed in reply. 

“Now that, I cannot deny.” 

Violet shuffled through her morning correspondence. 

“Regardless, it will be nice for Amelia to be around the Bridgerton clan. It’s time she begins to know her mother’s side of the family.” 

“That may not be such a good thing.” Daphne said wryly. “She may look like Freddie on the outside, but she’s a Bridgerton through and through on the inside. I’ve a feeling she will run wild at Aubrey Hall.” Daphne said with a hint of proudness in her voice. She suddenly felt excited to show her daughter her childhood home. Amelia loved the outdoors and she was excited to take her riding and teach her swimming in the shallow depths of the lake. 

She was interrupted from her reverie by her mother hurriedly glancing through a letter which bore Anthony and Kate’s seal. 

“Oh _no.._.” She gasped.

Daphne looked up for her plate of eggs. “What, mother?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing dear.” 

Daphne looked pointedly at her mother, waiting until she replied. 

“Well, if you must know, the Duke of Hastings is staying at Aubrey Hall for the rest of the summer. Are you sure you will be alright if he is there? I could perhaps send a message to Anthony…” Violet trailed off. 

Daphne suddenly felt her heart drop and a feeling of panic clench in her stomach. Vowing to not let her mother see her sudden distress, Daphne replied quietly, schooling her voice into a note of practiced nonchalance. 

“I should not care at all about his presence. He is my brother’s guest. In such a large house, I highly doubt our paths will cross.” 

“But dear…” Violet looked unconvinced. 

“Mother, I have already told you it was a ruse. There was nothing between us. Our goal was to find a husband. Just simply look how well we did. We all got what we wanted.” Daphne said determinedly. 

Violet stayed silent, noting how her daughter's words had begun with a forced conviction but gradually tapered off into a tone of slight hysteria. Meanwhile, Daphne turned back to her breakfast, shifting the food from side to side, her appetite completely lost. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long day’s journey, the Bridgerton carriage finally pulled up the driveway to Aubrey Hall. Daphne quietly murmured to Amelia, who sat in her lap, pointing out all of the spots she had played in with her older brothers. 

In honor of Daphne’s arrival, everyone had lined up outside of the house at Kate’s behest. Although it resulted in a great deal of grumbling from most of the family, there was no denying the palpable joy at seeing Daphne and their niece again. 

As the carriage pulled up to the front door and geared to a stop, Daphne took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before gracefully climbing down. Anthony stepped forward to grasp her hand. 

Daphne kissed her brother on the cheek in thanks, letting herself be gently embraced by him. She turned next to Kate, clasping her hand in greeting and leaning over her very pregnant belly to give a kiss in greeting. Kate smiled widely.

  
“It’s so good to see you again Daphne. I have gotten your old bedroom ready and the nursery is set up for Amelia right down the hall.” 

Daphne smiled back and said good-naturedly, “Knowing Anthony, the nursery has been ready since the day he found out you were expecting. I’d be surprised if my brother has let you out of his sight for the last eight months.” 

“How did you know?” Kate laughed back. 

“This is Amelia,” she introduced to the whole family who replied in a chorus of coos and greetings. Her daughter, suddenly caught in a shy spell at all of the attention, clutched her mother’s hand and turned her head into Daphne's lavender skirts. 

Her grandmother, whom Amelia thoroughly adored, scooped up Amelia into her arms and walkec into the house. “Come my dear, let me show you to your room.” 

Daphne turned to the rest of her siblings, embracing them in tandem as she walked up the steps to the foyer. As she reached the entrance, she was suddenly met with Simon. 

He took a deep breath and bowed. “Hello Daphne, It’s good to see you again. Or shall I say, Princess.” He attempted at a joke bleakly. 

Daphne looked at him, her ire rising. She glared at him incredulously. His presence felt as if someone had taken a hammer to the wall she had so carefully constructed around herself. For the first time in a very long time, she felt something. Annoyance. 

“It’s neither, _Your Grace_.” She bit back. 

“If you wish to address me at all, Your Highness, will do.” Daphne delivered, her words uttered in a combination that was cutting, snide, and vicious. Her siblings were startled at the words and tone of their usually sweet-mannered and temperate sister. 

Colin was slack jawed, the apple he had been enjoying held in a slackened grip. 

Francesca looked curious, studying their exchange.

Benedict immediately winced at both Daphne’s tone and Simon’s desperate attempt at a joke.

Eloise snickered, appreciating the bark in her usually docile elder sister.

Gregory was clueless and munched away at his own apple. 

Anthony smirked, thinking what good payback this was for the few weeks Simon and Daphne’s courtship had wreaked havoc on his well being. 

Kate simply shook her head. 

Violet, overhearing the conversation from the foyer, sighed. 

Hyacinth was the only one who said anything. “Say Daph, are you going to make all of us call you Your Highness too and wait on you hand and foot? You certainly did not when we were in Berlin. Do I have to call Amelia, Your Highness too? I supposed I shall confirm with my governess.” 

Hyacinth’s tirade was interrupted by Amelia herself, who had broken into a tired wail. Daphne walked past Simon and hurried inside, checking on her daughter and giving instructions to the nursemaid who trailed behind. 

The Bridgertons, in a small procession customary of their family, strolled into the house after Daphne, shooting Simon sympathetic glances. 

Simon just stood there, reeling from seeing her again. He was caught in the moment, knowing that he deserved that, hating himself for making such an asinine joke. All of the feelings he had fought so hard to suppress in the last few years rose bubbling to the top at the sight of her. The delicate, girlish planes of her face had transformed into the beautiful features of a woman. Her eyes seemed impossibly larger and deeper, framed by thick, arched eyebrows. Her lips were still as lush as he remembered and stained a deep pink. Her cheekbones, once impossibly high, were cut sharply and lended a sophisticated look to her countenance. She had grown from a lovely debutante to a gorgeous woman. He still wanted her. Simon had never hated himself more.

Kate finally broke him out of the trance. They were the only two remaining outside.

“Ready to go in? Freshen up for a bit before we serve tea?” 

Simon, still at a loss for words, offered his arm to Kate and escorted her inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/25/21 - For anyone reading this - the next chapter is coming soon. I've it fully outlined but need to find the creative muse to write it. Unfortunately, real life is super busy right now but I have lots and lots of ideas and outlines and plans for this story and fully intend to continue this.
> 
> All of your reviews, kudos, and comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Find me at my tumblr, @earlclyvedon


	4. I'll See You in My Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback

“But my sight, is better tonight, And I might, see you in my nightmare

How did you get there? We were once a fairytale.”

“I know if I’m haunting you, you must be haunting me.”

**_Flashback sequence_ **

Daphne took in the stage and the seats with curiosity. The last thing she had expected was for Anthony to bring her here. She supposed the incident with Berbrooke had rattled something in his recent dictatorial demeanor. Today, she felt as if her brother was acting like her  _ brother _ , not the authoritarian head of the family he had fashioned himself into. After exchanging pleasantries, Anthony handed her off to the Prince. 

_ This is my future now. Do not mess up this chance.  _ Daphne thought to herself, anxious to accomplish the  _ task _ in her first season. 

Prince Friedrich was nice. Polite. Good humored. He had the same values as her. He wanted a large family. A happy home. He would be the perfect husband. And yet - 

It was almost as if her body knew before she saw him. She would recognize him anywhere, even if it was the quick flash of his profile. He stood across the arena, conversing with the boxers and her brothers, clad in a rich burgundy coat that only served to highlight the broad, muscular expanse of his shoulders. Something in her belly tightened in anticipation.  _ Had he seen her yet? Would he come over and offer his greetings? Would he smile down at her with that knowing, familiar glint in his eyes, that promised so many things that she did not understand?  _

Of course not. 

She jolted herself out of her thoughts. 

She was here on the arm of a  _ Prince  _ while having entirely inappropriate thoughts of Simon.

Simon, who had rejected her and broken that fairytale dream of hers so assuredly, so cruelly. She had been mortified initially - had he ended things because of their last conversation at the promenade? When he had told her to touch herself? Did he think her wanton and shameful? No - surely not. Daphne did her best to suppress this onslaught of thoughts. Something in her must be twisted indeed if all she craved was Simon by her side again after that last, horrifying painful conversation. 

Simon truly believed himself to be a straightforward man, free of contradictions. Yet, as soon as he saw her with the Prince, he felt like stalking over, standing in between, grabbing her and kissing her in front of everyone, and staking his claim. The loss of her, when she had so continuously been on  _ his _ arm for the last few weeks was jarring. Irony, indeed. He longed to walk over, kiss her hand, and take back his words. 

_ What was wrong with him. Let her  _ go _.  _ The voice of Lady Danbury echoed in his mind. 

Yet, all he wanted was for her to react to him. He wanted to wrench her attention away and have her eyes gaze upon him as she had done over the last month - with laughter, with adoration, with poorly disguised intrigue. 

He knew it was a cheap move but he found himself taking off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves, and flexing his arms. 

He bit back a smirk as he noticed his actions had accomplished exactly what he had intended. 

Daphne could not tear her eyes away from him. He had taken off a few layers, exposing the thick, wiry muscles of his forearm. A wild, possessive feeling swept through her. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and feel them wrap around her while she melted into his hard body. She wanted to tilt her head up to his and kiss him, marking him as hers. 

She had wondered and fantasized and dreamt of it. What it would feel like to kiss him and press her body into his. Would it be sweet and gentle? 

Or heated like the look she so often noticed in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking? 

Daphne was interrupted from her salacious thoughts by Friedrich’s voice, who wanted to converse with her. 

_ Collect your wits!  _

She heard in Simon’s voice. What an apt reminder. She turned back to Friedrich to engage him in conversation, knowing that Simon’s eyes were on her. She wanted him to know that she had moved on, that she had done better than anyone in the ton had expected of her. She had triumphed through Lady Whistledown’s disparaging comments, Berbrooke’s threats, and Cressida’s snide whispers. 

Daphne doubled her efforts with Friedrich, laughing at every remark and smiling demurely at every comment. She wanted Simon to regret breaking their friendship. So she wrapped an arm around the crook of Friedrich’s elbow, knowing she was toeing the line of impropriety. Yet, all she wanted was to get a rise out of Simon who had rejected her so cruelly. 

She forced herself to drag her eyes away from the Prince and towards the match which had concluded. Looking past the fighters, the crowd, and the cheering onlookers, the world faded away. All she saw was the wounded expression in Simon’s eyes. That dark, twisted part of her could not hold back a triumphant smile. 

\------------------------------------

Confessing to her mother about the ruse should have felt cathartic, but it only served to muddle Daphne’s feelings about Simon and the Prince. There was every indication the Prince would propose tonight and she knew that she must accept his offer. 

Arriving at the ball with Anthony and her mother, she did not miss the endless parade of curious stares and appraising looks lingering on the diamonds on her neck. 

Friedrich claimed his dance. The progressively worsening feeling in Daphne’s chest grew and grew until she felt as if she could not breath. The walls appeared to be closing in on her and this overwhelming panic only seemed to grow when she spotted Simon in a far corner, chatting with a gentleman. Daphne could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She had to leave. She had to get some air. Murmuring her excuses in a panicked voice, Daphne ran out onto the terrace. 

She thought seeing Simon was the final straw in her losing her sanity this season, but sure enough, he had followed her out onto the terrace. 

They exchanged furious words, and she ranted and raved at him. He looked to be at such a loss for words, the wounded expression back in his eyes. This only made her angrier and more frustrated. She just wanted him to react, to cut through the tension, to break the chord that stretched tauter and tauter between them. So, she ran into the gardens, and like she knew he would, he followed her in. 

She heard him yelling at her to stop, and she finally turned around to look at him. 

He had looked at her as though he was starving. 

Simon pulled her into his arms and inelegantly crashed his lips onto her. He knew this would be the last time he would ever get to be this close to her and he just wanted to kiss her once, to see what it would be like. What he did not expect was for her to ignore his apologies and throw herself into his arms again, kissing him back even more thoroughly and furiously. 

He slipped his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply before running his hands over her front. He palmed her breast and slipped his hand down her neckline, shifting her chemise aside to further cup her breast and play with her nipple. He dropped more kisses down her neck, lingering on a particularly sensitive area, before sucking her pulse point and laving his tongue over the spot. She moaned responsively, with hands roaming his back and arms, clinging to his biceps, molding her body to his. Her reaction spurred him on, both of them lost in the moment, both desperately taking what they could from the other. He shifted his hand to her backside, angling her hips to his to ground his arousal into her heat. Daphne gasped in response, grabbing his jaw to kiss him deeply before murmuring. 

“Simon...?” 

Simon jolted. Her voice had broken him out of his reverie. He righted the front of her dress and dropped the skirts down, jumping a foot back. He felt sick, as if someone had punched him in the gut. What had he done? 

He stared at her in horror. 

“I am so sorry Daphne, I can’t do this...I only came here to say goodbye to you. I never intended for things to get this far.” 

Daphne stared at him in shock. 

“What do you mean? You just took liberties with me!” 

“I know, and I am sorry. I will escort you back to Anthony and your mother. Please forgive me. I forgot myself.” 

Daphne was eerily still, her mind processing what had happened. She was an idiot. He was a rake, as he had told her so many times. And she, like a loose woman, had thrown herself at him, knowing he did not love her, knowing he would never marry. 

Simon grabbed her by the arm and started walking her up to the terrace. 

Simon felt as if he was trapped in a perverse dream. He wanted to tell Daphne how she had captivated him, how much he loved her and wanted to be with her. It had never been like this with anyone before Daphne came along. He wanted to go to Anthony now, and beg for Daphne’s hand in marriage. He almost wished Anthony or Lady Bridgerton, hell even Lady Danbury, had stumbled upon them in the gardens and forced his hand in marrying Daphne. 

He knew he could not ruin her life by shackling her to him. He was unworthy. He had nothing to give. She would always be disappointed in him, when she found out his secret. She wanted a full life, with a loving, unbroken husband, someone with a large and loving family. What would she, who had only known love and laughter all of her life, do with someone like him? He had been alone all of his life, and deserved nothing more, much less someone whole and pure as Daphne. 

Against all of his instincts and wishes, he delivered Daphne to the terrace, watching as she numbly climbed the stairs and retrieved the necklace that was laying on the same ledge. He melted back into the garden and watched as Anthony spotted her and walked outside. Simon turned and walked through the side of the house, out of Lady Trowbridge’s ball, away from it all. 

“Ah, Daphne, there you are. My god, you look flushed - where have you been?” 

“I was just getting some air, brother.” Anthony looked unconvinced, but carried on.

“I believe the Prince wants to have a private audience with you. He is waiting in the parlor. Would you like to speak to him now?” 

Daphne looked at her brother. She wordlessly nodded and let him walk her inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Simon, why are you like this?!
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Next chapter, we're back to the present.
> 
> Please drop a comment and let me know what you think
> 
> To all my readers who have commented and kudos-ed, thank you so much - I read all of your comments and they inspire me to write. 
> 
> Hopefully, the next chapter wait won't be as long at this previous one. 
> 
> Come talk to me at @earlclyvedon on Tumblr


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